Shades Of Gray
by WiseDraco
Summary: Draco views the world for what it is but it took some convincing to get him there...Draco POV. Very smutty...but I think it's thoughtful...yeah.


A/N- Flame me? I will send you a nasty PM back. Other then that? Please enjoy. NOT part of the TIC series. Just drabble. My creative juices have seem to gone frozen right along with the cold weather. PLEASE REVIEW!!! I am aware that there is a word in here that does not actually exist...but it worked.

Many thanks

WiseDraco

dedicated to the wonderful darkmosmordreheart...kisses ChikitaB!

* * *

Why was it so complicated?

All of it was so complicated.

Every feeling ever felt

Every thought ever thought..

Everything was so…is so…fucking complicated.

Shades of gray…

Shades of blue…

Shades of pink…

Gold…

Purple…

Red…

Green…

Red…

Gold…

_Green_…

But never black…

Never white…

Just…

Complicated.

It's never been

You and me

Equals

Love

It never follows

Those fucking lines

In those goddamn

Songs

Or

Books

Or

Those bloody long moving pictures

Muggles call

Movies.

Oh no.

And yet,

We listen to them

And read them

And watch them.

Because

We _need _those colors.

Those specified

Labels.

Because everything is so

Fucking

_Gray_.

I hate it

When

Writers

And directors

And singers

Screw with those ideas.

Screw with that black and white.

That one

Singular

_Uncomplication_

That I have.

You

Are my biggest complication

And my biggest

_Uncomplication_.

You

Are my black and white

And my shades of gray

And every other fucking color

In-between.

And dammit if you don't know it.

You always know it.

Those

Eyes.

Those beautiful deadly

Uncomplicated

_Complicated_

Emerald

Pin

Sage

Chartreuse

Oh-so-achingly

Green

Eyes.

That

Skin.

That smooth silky

Complicated

Uncomplicated

Bronze

Chestnut

Ginger

Russet

Sepia

_Skin_.

And that damn hair.

That unruly

Lusciously thick

Charcoal

Inky

Sooty

Sable

Raven

_Hair_.

It's funny somehow,

You're so opposite from me

You are the visionary of black to my delusory white

Which is a contradiction

In itself

You the are the authentic white

And I am the undeniable black.

Or so they say.

But it's more

Complicated then that.

Far more complicated.

The first time was a fluke

We were fighting

As always

And somehow

Some way

My lips brushed yours

And never

In all my life

Had I ever felt

Anything like that.

Like the calm before a storm

And the wildness during it

And the serenity afterwards.

An accident

---an undesirable or unfortunate happening that occurs unintentionally and usually results in harm, injury, damage, or loss; casualty; mishap.---

The second time

Was another fluke

Another accident

But it felt like before…

Like waiting for something wonderful

And then receiving it

And then basking in the outcome.

But

Still it was only

A mishap

---an unfortunate accident.---

The third time though

Everything blurred

And it was fast

But incredibly slow

Something that will always

Go on

But ended far to quickly.

You were so careful.

Like I would break.

A spark of lips

And a trace of skin

Clothes pulled off as if on fire

And then time slowed

And if the world were a "movie"

The camera angle would change

And it would circle around us

Taking in everything

That only makes sense when you experience it.

You pulled me to you

And we kissed.

---Oh god but how we kiss.

Like the world is ending.

Be it rough of soft

Biting of lush.

Always like the world

Will fall away.---

And then I was on my back,

Which is odd

For who I am.

But it felt right.

Right there.

You made me feel

Dominated

But not less.

Like your equal.

Somehow.

You're so bloody

White that way.

And you moved down my body

And licked

And bit

Sucked and

Kissed.

My eyebrows

My eyelids

My cheeks

My chin

My neck

My chest

My stomach

My hips

My thighs

My knees

My calves

My ankles

---who knew that would be so sensual---

And even the arch of my foot.

Throw back my head and

Gasping

Didn't seem to be enough

But that was all I could think to do.

The

Whole

Time.

And then you moved back up to

My finger-tips

And

My knuckles

---each one---

My palm

The back of my hand

Wrists

Forearm

Soft skin of my elbows

---turned out to be an stimulating spot for me---

My biceps

And my ears.

Merlin but my ears.

Were you to stay there long enough

I was certain I would have come

Right then and there.

Your hands gripped my shoulders

And hauled me up

---My back doing that

Lovely

Feminine

Arching move

You seem so very found of.---

My mouth sought yours,

And was found.

Movement.

A gentle caress

Of the most strong muscle in the human body.

You nibbled at my

---soft pink –your words not mine---

Lower lip

And sucked it into your mouth.

---To this day you still swear nothing tastes sweeter then I do---

And then,

---Even now I never really feel you there

Not as if your preparing me anyway.---

You were inside of me.

You

The very part of you that makes you

All man.

Was inside of me.

And nothing

---on my oath of whatever you can trust me as---

ever felt, feels, that good.

That wonderful.

That uncomplicated complication.

That primitive modern

Surreal realistic…

…

Feeling.

My legs on your shoulders,

You gripping my thighs

Kissing my calf now and again

Sometimes as if it were my mouth.

Crystal sweat rolling down your chest,

The fire glinting off of it

As if to reflect it as

The most precious of stones

Or liquid clear life.

Whimper

Moan

Breath hitching

Crying out

Groaning.

Useless words

For an act of

Pricelessness.

Golden skin,

Blazing eyes

And a smile

That I am certain had been hiding for years.

And it's returned

Gracing a face ---my face--- that was certain it would never grace.

Your throat arches,

That pretty smile

Changes

To an expression of almost lost bliss

Your eyes close

And

A word spills from your lips

One word

And it's my name.

And then

An explosion

Shattering

Blasting into a million pieces

Knowing you'll catch every piece

And put me back together.

But not in the order of who I was

Some one better.

Some one more.

No more pure.

But even then I knew

I was just more.

Everytime after that,

It was different.

More experince,

More knowledge

Just more.

Never enough.

And the more there is.

The more we know.

And the more I find

There is no

visionary of black

Or

delusory white

Nor is there

An authentic white

Or an

undeniable black.

No.

We are the very

Definition

--- answer, characterization, clarification, explanation, individuation, interpretation, key, representation, solution, translation---

Of

Shades of Gray.

We are,

The

Shades of Gray.


End file.
